#WHY ARE YOU EVEN HOLDING IT ON A PLATTER AT THIS POINT JUST GRAB HANDFULS OF IT YOU ANIMAL

[sharpth1ng]

I can’t handle this image

Why are you grabbing the cake by the frosting im losing my mind

[raekensluver]

a slytherin secret

description: you and theodore nott have been best friends since childhood, but this is the moment your friendship changes.

pairing: childhood bsf!theodore nott x fem!reader

contains: fluff!, childhood best friends to lovers

song rec: apocalypse by cigarettes after sex- "sharing all your secrets with each other since you were kids"

w.c: 1k

an: you have to use your imagination a little bit to pretend that wingardium leviosa isn't taught in the first year...

"come on, theo," you urged, nudging him with your elbow. "you can't just skip over the charms homework again. professor flitwick will have our heads on a platter if we're not prepared for tomorrow."

theo looked up from the quidditch magazine spread open in his lap, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "oh, come on. you know i've got the quidditch game to worry about. besides, it's just a simple levitation charm. how hard can it be?"

you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. theo had always been like this—a bit of a procrastinator when it came to schoolwork, but you knew he'd pull through when it really mattered. plus, his charm and natural athleticism had earned him a spot on the slytherin team for the past three years, so maybe he had a point.

"alright, alright," he conceded, tossing the magazine aside and grabbing his wand. "but only because you're my favorite."

you felt your cheeks warm at the compliment and hoped the flickering firelight was enough to hide your blush. theo had always had a way of making you feel special, even amidst the competitive slytherin environment. you focused on the parchment in front of you, reading the incantation for the levitation charm. "wingardium leviosa," you murmured, watching the quill hover slightly in the air.

theo mirrored your actions, his own quill rising slightly before dropping back down to the table with a soft thud. he frowned, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "it's not working," he muttered.

you couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement at his failure. "remember, it's all in the wrist," you said, demonstrating the flick again. "wingardium leviosa."

theo took a deep breath and tried once more. this time, his quill shot straight up, knocking over his inkwell and spilling a cascade of black ink across the table. "merlin!" he exclaimed, the two of you jumping up as the ink began to spread.

you couldn't hold in your laughter any longer. it bubbled up from your chest, filling the quiet common room with its warmth. theo looked at you, his own smile growing as he took in your amusement. "see? this is why i need you," he said, teasingly wiping an ink smudge from your cheek.

the moment hung between you, his hand lingering on your face, and something shifted in the air. the laughter died down, leaving only the crackling of the fireplace and the distant murmur of students passing in the corridor. you met his gaze, and for a heartbeat, the entire world felt like it had stopped spinning.

theo's hand dropped to his side, and he took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "you know," he began, his voice low and earnest, "i've never been able to do this without you."

you blinked, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin. "do what?"

theo took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "anything. quidditch, homework, even breathing. ever since we were kids, you've been there for me."

your heart raced as you realized what he was getting at. the unspoken truth that had always been there, lurking just beneath the surface of your friendship. you had felt it too, but never had the courage to say it out loud.

"theo," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

he stepped closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. "i know we're slytherins, and we're not supposed to be all…mushy," he said, his voice filled with a nervous laugh, "but i can't ignore it anymore. you mean everything to me."

you felt your heart pound in your chest as the weight of his words settled over you. theo had always been the braver one, the one who took risks and lived life without fear. but here he was, vulnerable and open, confessing feelings you had both danced around for years.

taking a deep breath, you reached out and took his hand, the warmth of his skin sending a jolt through your body. "theo," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil of emotions churning inside you, "i feel the same way."

the tension between you two snapped like a tightly stretched bowstring, and suddenly he was there, his arms around you, pulling you into a hug so tight it felt like he was trying to hold onto something precious that might slip away. you melted into his embrace, feeling his heart thud against your chest, matching the frantic rhythm of your own.

for a moment, you just stood there, holding each other, the warmth of the fireplace at your backs, the ink slowly seeping into the parchment forgotten. it was as if the whole world had melted away, leaving only the two of you in the cozy cocoon of the Slytherin common room.

"you do?" theo's voice was muffled against your hair, but the hope in it was unmistakable.

you nodded, smiling. "yes, theo. i do."

theo pulled back, his eyes searching yours with a newfound intensity. you could see the disbelief slowly morph into joy, and before you had the chance to say another word, his lips were on yours. it was a gentle kiss, full of wonder and tenderness, as if he was afraid you might vanish if he pressed too hard.

your arms wrapped around his neck, and you kissed him back, feeling the years of unspoken longing coil around you like a warm embrace. the air grew thick with the promise of something more, something you had both been too afraid to acknowledge.

the common room was a blur of shadows and firelight as you deepened the kiss, your hearts beating in sync. theo's hands found their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, as if trying to erase any distance that had ever existed between you.

breathless, you pulled away, your eyes searching his for any sign of doubt. but all you saw was the same unbridled happiness reflecting in the emerald depths that had been by your side through every victory and defeat, every secret and shared smile.

edited 8.20.24

[slamminslamminmcgill]

all im saying is ✨Logan with a knot✨ and Wade overstimulating you bc you cant get away -🦐

shrimp anon more like shrimp COLORS bro your vision is INSANE!!!!!!

soooo idk conventional a/b/o rules and i kinda don't care so im picturing a heat cycle as once a month endeavour. and bc you're on T you're a HORNY motherfucker and you're angry and violent so it's basically whoever can get their hands on you or knot in you first will take care of you. then as long as you get bred at least once you're fine. then you calm down and it's big aftercare hours bc your post-heat clarity endorphins are going CRAZY

now since your heat only comes once a month, wade treats it as a special occasion. and it wouldn't be fair of him to do the honors EVERY month, now would it?

so even though he's home with you, and logan's not, and won't be for a while, wade wilson will refuse to fuck you. it's not his turn. he did it last month.

and your heat is MISERABLE. imagine the worst period cramp you ever had, combined with hot flashes, searing rage, and it gives your cunt the sensitivity of a fucking bear trap. you'll clamp down on anything that touches you.

so no matter how much you suffer. no matter if you scream, cry, beg, grovel, bite, or commit acts of gratuitous violence against him.

he will hold out.

he will hold out until logan gets home and finds you naked, cuffed to the bed by your hands and ankles, a chewy ball-gag in your mouth getting crushed by your gritting teeth, and wade's holding a wand vibrator to your cunt.

he waves gayly at logan, "hey pinkie pie, merry christmas! wanna come open your gift?"

"jesus christ, are you fucking torturing him?! the hell is wrong with you?!"

"with ME?! where's your holiday spirit?"

logan just stares at him blankly, puzzled by what this psychotic dipshit could possibly be talking about. in response, and in the spirit of the season, wade sings him a song.

"🎼it's the mooost wonderful tiiiiime, of the mooonth~!🎵"

now he gets it.

"oh... okay. so then why did you tie him down like that?"

"well, we had a little INCIDENT earlier..."

--

you had managed to grab one of wade's guns and shot him in the chest

"OW!!! you RESOURCEFUL little shit!!! GRRR, oh~ mysweetboybabydarling i'msoproudofyou, butnoi'mnot, BAD BOY!!!"

--

"no, i mean why didn't you take care of him your-fucking-self, wilson? you really gotta make this my problem as soon as i walk in the fuckin' door?"

"your PROBLEM?! i hand you some prime-time, limited-edition, hot and bothered, ripe for the breeding, tranny boy BUSSY on a silver platter, and that's somehow NOT where your dick wants to spend its evening? am i hearing that right? please tell me i'm not. please tell me you're not this stupid, pookie bear."

instead of arguing back, logan goes quiet. he's thinking. and then, he laughs. that low, husky laugh that you have when you're marveling at the nerve of whatever dumb motherfucker is talking to you. or maybe, when that dumb motherfucker is making a point.

"heh... y'know what? fine." logan angrily strips his clothes off, one by one. his tanktop, "you want me to be the one to knot him? huh?" his belt, his jeans "can't do anything yourself, can ya?" and lastly, his boxers. then he grabs his cock and shakes it at wade.

"so then get me hard, you faggot." he clicks his tongue twice. "c'mon."

wade throws himself at logan's knees and gives him that gawkgawk4000turbotyphoon treatment to get him up. logan sighs in relaxation, grateful that wade was putting his mouth to such better use. once his eyes flutter open, he nods at you, finally giving you even a modicum of attention while you're under intense distress, and he merely waves at you nonchalantly, like how a pedestrian does to a car that lets him cross.

"hang tight, bub. be with ya in a second."

wade works him over until his knot is just barely starting to swell. he then takes his fattened cock and slaps wade across the face with it.

"take his chains off."

"hm... are you sure you want me to do that, princess? he's feisty, y'know. might get yourself bit, if you're not careful."

logan slaps wade again, but this time it's a bitchslap, using the back of his hand. and his claws.

"take. his fucking. chains off."

"mmm, right AWAY, your majesty~!"

[brunettegirlwrites]

MURDER ON THE DANCE FLOOR!

pairing: rafe and his bunny girl ᕱ⑅ᕱ

summary: rafe gets jealous every time he sees some sucker put his hands on what’s his.

whether it’s a hand on her lower back, just stepping by to get past her, or a hand on her arm as they say “thank you for your service”—rafe hates it. he doesn’t see the point of it truly. why are you putting your hands on what’s mine? he thinks.

it’s around the end of her shift. her feet ache from walking around in her black heels all night. her makeup is dewy from the warm atmosphere. and she desperately needed to run a brush through her locks. still, she kept the sweet girl-next-door smile plastered to her face.

her last table of the night was a group of men who were there for a bachelor party. they were drunk, rowdy, and super grabby. but it was something that she was used to. rafe, however, didn’t care how casual she felt with their attention and wasn’t going to let them get away with it.

as she was walking by, one of the men grabbed her elbow, forcing her to stop in her tracks. he pulled her down slightly so he could speak into her ear, “why don’t you stay a while?” he slurred.

she smiled harder than she ever could, trying to not show too much annoyance. she ripped her arm from his grip, careful not to spill the platter of drinks she was holding. “let’s keep our hands to ourselves, yeah?” she said, making him throw his head back in laughter.

as he did that, his friend next to him reached out and squeezed her bunny tail.

“hey!” she shouted, instantly placing the platter down on the table and her hands on her hips. “are you dense? I said hands off!”

despite her small demeanor, bunny can handle herself. but rafe being rafe, couldn’t help to insert himself in any situation where she ran into trouble. he slammed his drink down onto the table, the liquid splashing onto barry’s crisp white shirt. “yo, what the fuck man!?” barry yelled.

rafe is by her side within seconds, only being across the room handling business with barry. he’s got this guy pulled out of his seat by the collar of his shirt.

“you think you can touch my lady and get away with it?” he shook his head with a wicked smile on his smile. “naaah, it doesn’t work like that.”

assuming he was one of the bouncers, the bachelor began to apologize. but before he can even finish his sentence, rafe has his fist colliding with his face.

[formulaforza]

hello, hello! can i request a blurb where carlos and reader have moved in together and are having a housewarming party. they’ve invited a couple drivers over and lando tries to use the fancy hermes blanket on the couch and reader gasps! "what's the point of the blanket being on the couch if it can't be used?" "it's for show!" "oh for the love of god-" you’d do it amazingly 🫶🏼 thank you!

—coming home carlos sainz x reader love, mackie... hi nonnie!! this turned into exactly how I needed to spend my evening (my day was quite literally from hell.) and this ran a little longer than a blurb at 1.3k words! regardless, I hope you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun writing it (and listening to lots of Spanish music)

There wasn’t much that was easy about blending the home decor styles of you and your boyfriend. For every item that Carlos fell in love with, you had an equal and opposite styled piece that you were in love with. From the herringbone floors to the tall white walls, it seemed that everything in the place was a direct contrast of the other. Quiet luxury and old money and neon signs and maximalist paint swatches, it was almost an entire year before the two of you finally allowed guests to come over (which–by the way–was a direct conflict to one of the major reasons the two of you decided to move in together in the first place: hosting friends and family without arguing over who would be doing the hosting).

The week following the Spanish Grand Prix felt like the perfect time to finally show your home off to the people you loved most; everyone was already in Barcelona for Carlos, an hour and change flight or a two and a half hour train ride wouldn’t kill any of them, not when half of them had to make their way back to the capital. 

That’s how it all cumulated into the night of all nights. The coffee table books are surrounded by half full, mis-matched wine glasses on old Spanish tile coasters (a compromise the two of you had made over the intricate hand painted ceramic that previously adorned the kitchen walls). The record player in the corner of the room stutters its way through Carlos’ dusty Boleros In Trío vinyl while the bluetooth speaker in the kitchen serenades listeners with the sounds of Sebastian Yatra. 

Everytime Carlos enters a room, he flips the lightswitch on. You follow behind him turning the overheads back off, opting for the warm yellow lamp light and the colors of the city beyond the bistro-themed balcony.  He burns a candle on the stack of decorative books, something with tobacco and cocoa and brandy and–jasmine, maybe? He always picks candles with jasmine, so you might just be imagining the smell out of habit. 

And you, and him. The two of you so terribly settled into the domesticity of your shared lives, the air of love in every corner of the home. He appears in the kitchen in a warm breeze, reaching over your arm to grab a slice of chorizo from the tapas platter on the counter in front of you. He kisses your cheek when he does it, undoubtedly in hopes of distracting your hand from smacking his. “¿Tienes frío, mi amor?” Are you cold, my love? He peruses around the bite of food. 

“¿No porque?” No, why? You ask, pressing the back of your hand against your cheek to feel the temperature of your own skin. 

“Lando sigue y sigue sobre tener frío,” Lando is going on and on about being cold, he explains. “Estaba empezando a pensar que me estaba volviendo loco.” I was starting to think I was going crazy.

You laugh. If anything but temperate, you’re warm, working around the kitchen perfectly plating a platter for your friends and family to snack on. “Bueno, creo que Lando ha perdido la cabeza,” Well, I think Lando has lost his mind. Carlos chuckles, gives you another passing kiss as he moves behind you around the island. “¿Encontrarle una manta, sin embargo?” Find him a blanket, though? You ask. He nods through a chew, holds his thumb up as he backs out of the room—you wonder how he managed to sneak another bite of food past you. 

You appear with the tray of snacks, chorizo with ham and cheese and bread, croquetas and patatas bravas and tigres. If it’s all as good as it was when you’d tested the menu last weekend, your company won’t even realize that you and Carlos aren’t serving them an actual meal this evening. Everyone hastily moves their coasters and glasses and Carlos moves the stack of books from the coffee table to the entertainment center, hovers behind you as you set the heavy platter down just in case you need him. 

You find your seat next to Carlos on one of the sofas, know that he hates that people are eating on his new couches. He’d researched them for months–months–before finally deciding on the ones that had been delivered last month as a replacement to the ones from your old apartment. 

You notice Lando is still blanketless, still dramatically letting a shiver run up his entire body every ten minutes. “Güey,” you say, and half the room looks up from their conversation, Lando’s eyes meeting yours. “If you are cold still, get a blanket.”

“Ay yai yai, pollita, relax,” he quips back in a thick, feigned Spanish accent. Carlos snorts and you meet Lando with your middle finger, an old friend of his. When you look to your boyfriend to meet his dumb chuckle with the same fate, he’s not even paying attention to the conversation. Instead, he picks at the bottom of a shelf hung on the wall above the two of you. It holds his trophy from Silverstone, a picture of him and Caco, a small jar full of incense sticks (maybe the jasmine you smell), which he has stuck a tiny Spanish flag into, and a picture of you and he following his win. The smiles on both your faces are so horribly cheek-aching that you can almost feel the phantom soreness when you look at it. 

You watch as Lando reaches over another friend with a quiet excuse me. You can see the thought process happening behind his eyes, in his path for the blanket draped over the back of Carlos’ brand new couch. It’s like watching the world’s lowest stakes car crash. 

“Carlos,” you whisper. “Carlos, él va por la cobija,” he’s going for the blanket, you say through gritted teeth, nudging your boyfriend to deal with his friend.  He ignores you, still focused on the bottom of the shelf and the single splinter that shoots off it. “Carlos,” you say, this time with more force. 

“¿Qué?” You finally get his eyes, nodding over to Lando, who is currently unfolding the Hermés throw blanket Carlos’ mother had gifted the two of you upon signing your lease. “Ay! Cabrón! No,” he finally says, standing up from his seat and moving to take the blanket from Lando, who looks on in utter confusion as Carlos refolds the throw and moves down the hallway. 

“What the fuck?” He asks you through a meek chuckle. 

“We don’t use that blanket,” you explain, and he looks even more confused than before. 

“You… hu–what?” He laughs, with more confidence in his confusion than before. “Why is there a blanket on the couch if it can’t be used?”

You sigh, your eyes rolling behind closed lids. “It’s for decoration.”

“It’s for decoration?” You nod, just as Carlos appears from the hall again, usable blanket in tow, expensive throw likely put away in your shared bedroom. He hands it to Lando. “It’s for decoration,” the Brit teases. 

Carlos shrugs, holds his hands up in defense in the return to his seat beside you. “Rule maker,” he says, pointing to you with a thumb before shifting it to himself, “rule follower.”

You laugh, adjusting to the sink of the cushion brought on by Carlos’ weight on the couch, your fingers finding the hair at the nape of his neck without even the beginnings of a thought. Lando groans, pointing to you, “whipped,” and then to Carlos, “whipped… but more.”

“Stellar delivery there, cabrón,” you smile. “No stutter or anything.”

Carlos exhales a sharp laugh, his shoulders bouncing silently. Across the coffee table, Lando, curled up in a fluffy blanket like a toddler staying up past their bed-time to hang out with Mom and Dad’s friends, flips you off and is sure to properly enunciate his silently mouthed fuck you.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 5

First, Previous

This is probably the segment you've all been waiting for. Hope it holds up to expectations! 1.1k words.

----------

Before Danny could ask any questions about what the big deal was, Dick nudged him. “Which do you want—curry or beef?”

“Can I try both?”

“Alfred loves to see people enjoy his food. Eat as much as you can, then take a few more bites.” Dick handed him one platter followed by another. Robin watched on as Danny scooped some of each onto his plate.

When the ghost pointed to the potatoes and patted his stomach, Danny made sure to grab a large scoop and took a bite of that first. It was heavenly.

He raised his second spoonful up to Robin as a thank you for the recommendation.

“The potatoes are my favorite, too,” commented Jason who must’ve seen.

That caused Danny to raise and eyebrow and flick his eyes to Robin again. “I can understand why; they’re to die for.”

Jazz choked back a laugh. “Now you’re just stealing Dick’s joke from earlier,” she said.

“What can I say? It was a good one.”

Dick clucked his tongue. “Jason’s the same way. I don’t get how you can joke about almost dying.”

Danny tried the curry and shrugged. “This is so good. And I dunno, death jokes are super common in Amity. What else are you supposed to do when surrounded by ghosts?”

Dick just shook his head. “Well, if you say so. Now, here, try this, too,” he said as he scooped more food onto Danny’s plate.

Danny did so obediently and the conversation moved to lighter topics.

When he was mostly done with his plate, Robin decided it would be a great time to sit down on the table between him and Jazz. He stared at Danny and pointed to himself then raised an eyebrow. “When help me?” he mouthed.

“Jazz, I hope you’re well rested because I keep remembering more things I need to tell you about tonight after dinner.” On the last words, he made eye contact with Robin.

Who was not happy at all with his response. He stood on the table and seemed to grow in size. “Now,” he mouthed, foot stomp included. Angry-frustrated pulses filled the space.

“Danny?” asked Jazz.

Damn, he’d completely missed her reply. “Um, sorry Jazz, I got a work message earlier and I’m a bit distracted. Could you repeat that?”

Her eyes narrowed. She was totally onto him. “Something is up with you tonight.”

“Who me?” he rubbed the back of his neck and put on his innocent grin, the one that never worked on her. Flicking his eyes to Robin, he asked, “Why?” hoping that Jazz would take it as directed to her.

She stared at him a moment longer before turning back to Jason and pointedly ignoring Danny. Robin also moved until he was next to Jason, their faces side-by-side.

Then he removed his domino mask to show bright blue eyes, the exact color of Jason’s.

“Well fuck.” No way could he keep silent after that reveal.

The rest of the table fell silent and Bruce looked concerned. “Is everything all right, Danny?” he asked

Robin flew over to Bruce next and held two fingers to either side of his head and wiggled them.

“Well, double fuck.” Danny let his head bang on the table and cursed under his breath in Sumerian.

Dick touched his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” The concern was clear in his voice.

“Danny?” demanded Jazz.

Danny sat up and looked longingly at the remaining food on his plate before pushing away from the table and holding up his PDA and bag. “I’m sorry, I have to excuse myself for a few minutes. An important work thing.”

“Really, Danny? Can’t it wait?” asked Jazz.

“No. It really can’t.”

“Will you at least be quick?” she tried.

Danny sighed. “This’ll probably take ages to sort out in full. But the first part should only take a few minutes.” He looked over the rest of the table and bit his lip. He should tell them something, but where to even begin? And it’s not like Robin, Jason?, whatever, wouldn’t spill the beans as soon as he was able. So he just turned and let the room, Robin right on his heels.

“How far away from Jason, er, from your living self, can you get?” he asked quietly as soon as he felt like they were out of immediate earshot.

Robin flew a few feet down the hall and around corner. They were only just out of sight of the doorway and well within shouting range. In fact, he could still hear the sounds of conversation, even if exact words were difficult to make out.

Robin floated before him, no longer smiling, and held out a hand.

Danny stared at it a moment before grabbing it and pulling Robin into a hug. The ghost felt so insubstantial in his arms, like a wisp of silk or an underinflated balloon. Without thought, he transformed and surrounded Robin more securely in his aura.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t visit sooner,” whispered Danny. “I’m sorry I didn’t know about you until now.”

There was a tug on his core. Robin was trying to take some of his power. Danny pushed as well, giving it willingly. In his arms, Robin grew more solid.

With Robin’s increased corporeality, Danny became aware the boy was shaking. He chirped an I’m here, you’re safe message.

Robin trilled his thanks and nerves.

Before Danny could ask what Robin wanted to do next, they were startled apart by a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass and china and a voice shouting, “What the fuck?”

In the hallway, in perfect view of Danny and Robin, stood Alfred and Duke. A dropped tray and shattered dishes decorated the floor at Alfred’s feet and Duke had barely kept hold of his own tray and was half turned away but squinting at Danny and Robin like they were painful to look at.

Shouted questions and running footsteps echoed from the dining room and then everyone else was there, too.

Danny ignored everyone, focusing on Jazz who was staring at him in pure terror. Before he could assure her it would be all right, she was moving, ducking under arms until she was in front of him.

She fell into a fighting stance and pulled out a fenton staff. With the press of a button, it powered on, glowing like a double-sided light saber in her hands. “If any of you try to turn in my brother or hurt him, I will end you.”

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[watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees]

The easy way

I'll probably either rewrite this or write at least a follow-up to it, bc i don't like to leave this hanging in the void

masterlist

TW: manipulation, noncon drugging, implied threat of noncon, a little manhandlig, intimate whumper

"How many reminders do you need to get it through your pretty head, huh?" In all honesty Alyssa didn't need any. She wished she did so she wouldn't be stuck paralysed in his grip, fully aware of the lack of choice she has in the matter.

"Easy way or the hard?" he asked again, pushing her further so she was flush between him and the door. Easy? What was so easy about doing what she was about to on her own volition? Taking all the drugs she was offered, just so he doesn't jam a syringe in her neck while she's fighting him off. She should not be letting it happen. Fighting should be the better option, because if she fights she might be able to hold onto some scraps of her dignity. If she fought she could've proved to herself that she's not compliant. Not broken. And most importantly that she still hates him.

"The easy way then" she looked down, face turning red with shame. She was just so tired. She desperately needed those few seconds of quiet, over her dignity. The latter didn't hold much weight in this place any way.

"Good girl" Luke praised and opened the door they were standing at. She would've fell on her back into the room if he hadn't held onto her.

He motioned her to sit on the edge of the bed. She sat, timidly, unable to even mimick being relaxed.

He pulled a tray of chocolates from the bedside cabinet and offered it to her.

"Take one then!" She looked at the tray confused. Where are the pills? Will she have to pass the time eating chocolates before someone else comes in?

"What's in it?" she asked cautiously.

"Chocolate, of course" he laughed "And something else I can't wait for you to try" so the drug was inside the sweets. Sickeningly enticing array of delicious chocolates she hadn't had one in so long, and now it was offered on a silver platter. She slowly reached for one and took it out of thw box. It melted right where her fingers touched it, and she just stared.

"What are you waiting for? Eat it" he commanded and Aly obeyed. The chocolate didn't taste weird. She hoped it would just so she can feel a semblance of the pain that comes with being forced into this. The stupid thing tasted just like regular chocolate "Good girl" he praised again, she wanted to crawl out of her skin. She wasn't good. She wasn't anything, nothing she did matter because he would get whatever he wanted anyway.

He stood in front of her and slowly pushed her down into the pillows. Climbing on top of her effectively mobilising her.

"You make everything so hard on yourself all the time. Isn't this nicer?" It's not. This meant she gave in. She just nodded in acknowledgement "Come on now, I know when you're lying to me" he raked through her hair gently before grabbing it. He didn't pull on it yet.

"We can chat before it kicks in" he nudged.

"I- I don't, I can't- I don't want to choose the easy way"

"But you did" he pointed out "So many times before you chose it. Why?"

"Because it hurts less" she whispered averting her gaze "But I think about it more and it hurts that I- I took part in it" he cocked his head to the side studying her.

"But you know once you stop trying to go against me in everything it won't hurt at all? I won't hurt you then." he carressed her cheeks and wiped away the tears that started flowing with his free hand "I get what I want either way" he shrugged.

"And what do you want with me now?"

"You don't have to worry about that"

"Why do you need me to be drugged then?"

"Because it's fun. And I do what I want"

...

She didn't immediately open her eyes when she came to. She felt his hands draped around her waist huggung her from behind. She felt she had clothes on that was a good sign.

Her head was spinning a bit when she tried to move slowly inching away from him, but he pulled her back into his chest with a sleepy grunt as one would a teddy bear. It hurt her hip where he held onto, there was a few days old bruise, but it wasn't anything she couldm't handle. There was no other form of pain other than the dull headache she was sure would turn splitting later.

She tried to be conscious of her body to figure out what happened the night before. She felt nothing. No soreness, no weird sensations.

"Good morning, princess" he greeted her groggily.

"What did you do to me?"

"No 'good morning' to me?" he kissed into the crook of her neck "That's rude"

"Did you- did we sleep together?"

"Yes" he murmured "and we'd still be, if you haven't woken me up"

"I hate you"

"No, you don't" he smiled still not letting go of her "If you hated me we wouldn't be here like this"

"I truly do you drugged me for no reason!"

"You hate uncertainity not me. And you hate that I didn't fuck you last night"

"You're disgusting" Aly tried to wriggle away again earning a hand on her throat to keep her in place.

"Oh come on, you are you lying to here" he laughed squeezing her thoat "You're a little scared of me, and a lot more angry, but you like being this close, just enjoy it"

"No, I seriously fucking hate you, Luke" this time his hand closed around her throat.

"Let's get something straight here" he started "You don't call me that. And you certainly should think about when you decide to hate me" he suddenly let go "This is the thanks for a fucking nap? How can I reward you with anything bigger if you can't even appreciate this?"

[allkordelia]

Keep Me in Your Thoughts (34)

When we finally decided to show ourseleves the welcoming celebration was moved from the throne room to godswood, my arm was loop through meleah's arm as I leaned on her while she guided me to godswood. I don't know what has gotten into me, I had so much energy earlier now all I feel is tired and sluggish and big. This reminds me of something what I can't put my finger on what, maybe it's the stress getting to me, yeah, once I finish here and get back home I will feel like myself again.

Only the Red Keep and the people who stay in it can only be the reason to make me feel like absolute shit for no reason, I sigh to myself.

"Where's my pomegranate." I ask turning to look at meleah making the girl sigh herself.

"I told you, my queen. They are still looking for one," My frown deepen as we walk down the halls.

"Gods, I hate this place." I mutter, how can they not have pomegranates, they are one of the most imported fruit in westeros and they're still looking. Pigs. All of them. This place thinks about nothing but themseleves....

The moment we made it outside, I stirr meleah to the table filled of food. I unhook my arm from her as I look at the various of finger foods to eat, as I think about what I should eat first the rumble in my stomach made me realize it didn't matter. So, I took the crabapple tart from the platter and pop one in my mouth, my lashes flatter in delight at the bittersweet taste before moving to grab a plate and start pulling sweets and others onto my plate.

"My lady must you get so much," I pause and look at her before looking down at my plate that sat a separation of sweets and tidbits before glancing back at her with a frown.

"Gods, no wonder I'm getting fat, I'm stress eating." I groan moving to abandon the plate on the table, but meleah stop me from doing so as she took the plate from me.

"No, I didn't mean it like..." she sigh, "You look fine, my queen. Here." I shook my head as she tries to hand it back to me making my hands out in front of me.

"It's okay, nope. I'm fine. I'm not hungry anymore," I lied as I glance at the food and back meleah, she gave me a pleading look making me turn my head away.

"Fine." She said defeated, "Why don't I hold on to it, and if you get hungry again you can take a sweet or a tidbit off the plate, so people can think we are sharing and not all of it is yours." I bite my cheek and glance at her.

"You will do that for me?" I ask a bit uncertain, why am I feeling unsure, of course meleah do that for me she's my friend, "Thanks, Mel." She gave me purse smile as she bow her head at me.

I swipe a pork with bread around and quickly putting it in my mouth, gods that's nasty, even through I hate this place with a passion their food are always amazing. I cover my mouth as I chewed making me glance around at the lords and ladies, I look away from the people distracted by a bird in the weirwood tree. I move away from meleah to go near the tree trying to see the bird, I stand under the creepy face tree looking at the long branches that look to stretch out forever. As I move around the tree to stand behind it  I finally found the bird perched on a branch, it red feathers blended in with the blood-red leaves.

"What are you looking at?" I narrow my eyes at the bird as the person behind m3 ask.

"A bird."

"A bird?" He repeated making I hum.

"Yes, a bird. A Summer Tanager to be exact," It was his turn to hum.

"I don't see it." I lean back so my back can be touching his chest a bit before I move to point up in the tree.

"It's right...there on  that scrawny branch between those two larges ones." I felt him move closer so the front of his body was flash against my back and his chin hover over my right shoulder.

"Do you see it, my prince." His hands went to my waist gently squeezing them.

"Yes, my queen." I turn my head just as daemon did the same, a broad smile painted his lips as he gaze at me.

He squeeze my waist again before leaning towards my lips, before he can get a kiss outta me. I look away from him and move out of his hold  to lean against the tree, daemon look at me with amuse look before moving to lean against the tree too parallel from me.

"A fun fact about birds is that some are said to be smarter than humans," I said looking up as the bird flit to another branch making it shake and some leaves fall off.

"Are they now." I nod as I look at the bird flit again over to another branch, "I never knew you found birds interesting." I look at him.

"I don't. I just like reading about them, my favorite bird is the shrikes." Daemon raised his brow.

"Why? Because their cute and small." I chuckle as I move close to daemon making him smirk at me, as my hand brush against his hand making him grab it.

"That's one of the reasons," he press his lips to my palm making something in me spark and make me bite my bottom lip.

"What's the other." He ask moving my hand to rest against his cheek, my thumb caressed his cheek making him lean into my hand.

"Mostly because of their nickname, butcher birds, they got their names from impaling their prey on thorns or sharp branches to eat and store for later." I said as I slide my hand from his touch making him look at me with a bemused look, "Just because something is small and cute, my dear. Doesn't mean it can't kill you, daemon."

He face came close to my own, I could feel and smell his breathe from how close he was. It made you want to close the gap and kiss him already.

"I love it when you threaten me, my queen." A deep purr from him caused my mind to go foggy, it was the same sound he will make when he was on top of you. My core squeezed around nothing at the thought of him, gods how you want him inside of you.

"Not...threatening, my love. Just educating." I purr leaning closer to him.

He made it hard for me to think clearly. I could tell he felt the same way as his eyes hasn't stop peaking down at my swollen breast in this dress, I watch as his tongue poke out wetting his lips before our eyes made contact. His light purple eyes were now cloudy dark lilac as he stare at me, I look at his hand feeling it on my waist as he squeezes me before moving to slide behind me to grope my backside. As he kneaded my ass all I can think about is how all the time we laid in bed together. Those slender fingers were the ones that brought me to a mind-boggling orgamic bliss so many times, and how his soft lips would kiss along my thigh until he mouth on me. Gods how you want to feel him inside you again.

"...daemon," I whispered making him hum, "kiss me." He move his hand to the back of my neck bringing me onto a heated kiss.

I moan softly against him as he pull me flash against him, I could feel his tent poking me as I rub myself against casuing to let out a small whimper. His lips move from my lips to my neck as he kiss and suck along the my collarbone, as i allow him to push my back against the tree, the sudden sounds of people around us made me remember where we were at. I move to pull his mouth from my body before pecking him on the lips, before he could pull me in for another deep kiss. I move away from his hold and made my way from behind the tree.

I look over my shoulder with a smile to see him watching with lovesick grin as he comes from around the tree, when his name was called by a familiar female voice. I turn my eyes away and made way through the people who started to leave back inside to find Meleah.

@beggarsnotchoosey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @avidreader73 @green-lxght @spderm4nnnn @supermassiveblackhope @watercolorskyy @stargaryenx

[rats-dotpng]

INFODUMP!! ABOUT!! Those two girls in that one piece i did.

okay so basic information- The blue haired girl is named Cynthia Staunting, Cynth or C for short. While the girl in pigtails is named Philomena, Ilo for short. She doesn't have a last name since I dont really care about that.

ANYWAYS!! Their story takes place in a medival/victorian time period. Cynth was the daughter of a butcher and a tailor. She learned about both jobs but had a deep interest in becoming a butcher rather than what her town expected of her. So she was bullied and ostracized.

Meanwhile, Ilo was loved by the town. The perfect girl. (the face she has in the drawing is more of a metaphor and isnt really present until post story btw)

Then one day Ilo and Cynth met in Cynth's house (as it was the butchers place and the tailors) and Ilo, seeinf Cynth all bloodied and sweaty while chopping up meat. She becomes interested in Cynth.

Then they become friends!! But uhm. After that the town gets angry at Cynth even more and shit and accuses her of witchcraft and gets angry for tainting the perfect girl or whatever (fuck the town let them be lesbians!1!1!)

(MORE UNDER CUT!!)

The bullying and stuff gets worse, becoming more violent and stuff. Cynth manages to hide it from Ilo though. But one specific day Ilo witnesses Cynth getting verbally abused)

she snaps.

Ilo sneaks up on the guy and kills him from behind. (Note: the guy was the town mayor OR someone really important to the town)

Cynth is rightfully scared, but manages to snap out of it and tearfully helps hide the body after Ilo helps clean her tears. (Ilo kissed her or whatever and promised it would be okay if they just hid the body.)

How? Cannibalism.

Since Cynth has experience with butchering living beings, she figured out that the only way to hide the body completely would be to cook it. And they do.

They're both disgusted for doing this. For different reasons, Cynth because she has to eat a human being while Ilo is disgusted because the man they're eating is full of disease to her. He is nasty and vile, he doesn't deserve to be eaten.

I should note that Ilo is really unhealthy about her love and is. obsessive. Well she starts becoming more and moreso after they murder someone together. She felt a twisted sense of love doing that with Cynth.

Anyways soon the town finds out after realizing the guy is just. Gone. and points their fingers at Cynth. The town decides that they need to put a stop to this and holds a live execution in the guillotine (which is why her head is on a platter.)

The town forces Ilo to do the act herself, in front of the town, making her have to stare down her love best friend as she's restrained down. She has to gulp it down, she wants to refuse but Cynthia looked up with her with a hint of resignment.

"Do it," Cynthia rasped pathetically, struggling underneath the restraints. She looked up at Ilo, a hint of resignation in her eyes. Her stare basically begging, pleading, to be killed. "I- please... T-they're right.. J-just kill me...!"

Philomena finds her wrist grabbed by Cynthia, the townsfolk behind her yelling but all she sees is Cynthia begging for death.

"I..." Philomena gulps, her hand slipping against the rope she held in her hand. The thing keeping her dearest alive. "N-no..! I-I do not want to kill you...! P-please!"

Cynthia just stared up with her. Cynthia through messy bangs and unruly hair with bloodshot eyes, gives her a slight smile.

A tear drops down Cynthia's face. She grasps Philomena's hand and forces it down.

Cynthia gives her one last look before letting go of Philomena's hand and the guillotine drops.

"G-goodbye, Ph- hrgh... I-Ilo..." Were the last words Philomena- Ilo heard before the guillotine sliced her head off.

Ilo's face fell.

And so did Cynthia's head.

[pixielove-1]

•TRAPPED IN HER BASEMENT•

Warning this story has kidnapping rape: I guess? And blood defiantly some fluff too.

You remembered going to school that day. That day she took you way from the world...it's not like you have family waiting at home or friends that are waiting to meet up with you it's just. You liked your freedom of going out where ever you wanted without being monitored. That memory still hunts you till this day as she took you away.

"Finally" I sighed at the bell rung it was dark out and you where in troubled for defending yourself. I scoffed as I remembered I broke Tammy's nose. The dick deserved it. "Hey y/n!" Someone called "huh? Oh hey Edward what are you doing here?" He shrugged walking beside me "I lost my book and begged that hot teacher to let in all for the small price of-"

"Don't finish that sentence" I warned as he laughed "yeah yeah, bet you whish you could do that to a girl huh?" I rolled my eyes we've been friends since birth and he's still so...annoying "shut up isn't this your stop?" He nodded before questioning me "want me to walk you all the way, I don't like it out here when your alone." I smiled kindly at him "don't worry I know where you live eddie I'll get to you." He Nods pulling out a knife "here for just incase."

I thank him again before he fades into the shadows.

...

Heading down the streets I felt...wired like someone was following me. I turned around meeting with only shadows of the night. There was nobody there but I felt that there was like someone was watching me from a good distance yet so close. I sighed groaning as I turned back around which was my mistake.

As soon as I did a figure ran out and tackled me pulling me into the bushes and started drugging me "fuck let go!" I managed to yell as I struggled in there arms.

"STOP!" I cried as a needle poked through my skin and venom stated pumping in. I used the knife as quickly as I could but this didn't matter as I was drowsy. And too slow to even run away as he pulled me into a car..

...

My eyes slowly opened to a big empty room with only a couple of boxes and a mattress that I sat on. My head was splitting into two as my mouth was unbelievably dry. "Wh-where the hell?" I finally noticed my chained hand that where cuffed to the wall behind me. In and uncomfortable position I tried pulling myself down "shit!" I cursed under my breath as I feel my head pound once more.

The sudden shine of a light only made the pain worse. "Oh your finally up." The silhouette if a feminine figure was at the door that was at lease 15 feet away.

"Who the hell are you and why, why am I here?" I questioned quickly "I wouldn't be so loud if I where you, don't exactly want to anger your kidnapper do you?" She had a point for all I know she could kill me in the worst way possible. Her figure stepped closer and closer before a sudden.

Click

Informed me a light had turned on and my head didn't like that very mush "fuck!" I hissed kicking my legs I slowly peeked my eyes open seeing a younger Burnett holding a silver tray with a long glass of water that sood with a generous amount of ice. I also took note of her bandage hand. As she stepped closer I couldn't exactly think of where I have seen her before maybe at a store? Or or the mall? No that wasn't right she was to familiar for that.

Her burning blue eyes grazed onto my darker brown ones as she set the tray down reviling food and pills.

"You must be striving, since you didn't eat anything at home or before you left the school did you?" To how she know this information is unknown to me all I know is that I'm hungry at this food smells Devine. "I, n-no I'm not hungry." I turn my head away despite the sudden loud grumble from my stomach causing my cheeks to turn into a burning red.

She giggles a bit "your stomach says otherwise, here I'll feed you." She smoothed the platter away before grabbing the fork and plate and sitting infront of me. "Say ah~" She grabbed a peace of a green bean and held it out. My blush only grew as I opened my mouth and wrapped my teeth around the savory flavor. "Mh!" I moaned as I chewed the one bean.

...

After she fed me She forced down the pills as I originally fought her over the pain killers. But she one as the ice tickled my lips as I greedily drunk down the water clinching my long needed thirst. "Oh, good girl you where really thirsty huh?" I only grunted in reply. "Well then ill see if I can get you patched up since you decided to fight me earlier." I pouted as she stood whipping off her blue dress a left me be for a bit than it all clicked together.

Small about 5'4, brown hair ocean blue eyes and seemed weathly yet horribly smart.

Nancy fucking wheeler.

...

Working on part two!

[stvknt2]

     Gracie watched the bushes and trees pass by as Erick drove down the road. She wishes she could figure out where they’re at. Mostly because she just wants to know how far away from home they are. They’re on their way to a clothing store so Gracie could find a dress. Erick has a work event and he’s bringing her along.

     “You don’t have to worry about the price, Grace. Just get whatever you want to get. I want you to be comfortable.” He smiled softly at her and reached over and set his hand on her knee. She’s gotten used to him doing this so she doesn’t flinch anymore.

     “Okay, I’m a little nervous though,’ she set her hand on top of his so he can’t put it anywhere else, ‘I haven’t talked to another person in awhile. What if I forgot how to.” Gracie laughed nervously, playing with his fingers.

     “Oh, Gracie, you’ll do fine. I don’t think there’s a person out there that wouldn’t like you. It’ll come naturally to you as soon as you're back around others.” Erick shot her a big smile. She nodded her head, not sure what else she wanted to say.

     “Plus, you’re magnetic. They’ll love you, just the way I do.” He squeezed her knee trying to reassure her a bit.

     They drove in silence for the rest of the ride. Erick’s hand felt like it weighed a hundred pounds on her knee, every little squeeze and stroke felt like electricity flowing through her in the worst way imaginable. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him right now.

     The clothing store looks nice, not the kind of place Gracie would normally look for clothes, but it would do. They had some gorgeous dresses for her to wear. She’s sure that Erick will be happy with whatever she picks, it looks like these dresses show enough skin to make him drool, but not too much so she’s just serving herself up on a platter to him. The dresses Erick holds up for her to wear make her want to gag. He wants her to be like she was before he kidnapped her, but she will never give him that.

     She had a couple dresses she likes and she reluctantly took a couple Erick had wanted her to try on, and she went into the dressing room. She hasn’t got to look at herself in a while. She hardly recognized herself. She hasn’t looked in a mirror in God knows how long. She’s clearly gained some weight, but that doesn’t bother her too much. What bothers her is the lack of life to her skin. Her hair. She looks duller. She didn’t even want to try on any dresses, not looking like this. She’s not sure any would look good on her. How can Erick stand to look at her like this? He fell in love with her looking bright and full of life, now, she’s dwindled down to nothing. How can he still be interested in her like this? Is it because he’s the one doing this to her?

     She tried on the ones he wanted her to wear first, they disgusted her. He wants to show her off like a prized show horse. She’s not his trophy to ogle at and show off to others. He has complained to her about the way she dressed before he took her, saying that she looked like a whore. He seems to like it when he gets to have a confidence boost from it. Almost like he’s saying, ‘Look at the hot babe I was able to score! A boring old guy like me!’ They don’t know though, that she is being held here against her will.

     “How’s it going in there, Gracie? You like any of them? I think you’d look real pretty in the purple one.” Erick boomed from the other side of the door, making Gracie jump. She wasn’t expecting him to be right there. Waiting for her.

     She opened the door a crack so she could look at him. Her stomach flipped at the sight. She hates him, she does. Why doesn’t she just run? It’s not like he could catch her. What’s the point of putting up with his rules? Her heart started to pound in her chest.

     “I hate the ones you picked out. You have no sense of fashion. You don’t get my body type at all. I’ll look like a cheap whore if I go in any of those. Put them back.” Gracie spat, grabbing the dresses in her hands and shoving them in his direction.

     “C’mon Graciela, don’t be like that.” Erick whimpered, he looked like a dog that had just been kicked by his owner. For some reason, Gracie felt like kicking him again.

     “What? Were you hoping you could show me off to your coworkers? I’m not a fucking object, Erick. Fuck you. Plus, they’re not going to believe a girl like me is actually dating a man like you. You’re old. You’re ugly. You’re lucky you’ve been saving up your entire life, at least that’s a plus. Everyone at the dinner is going to look at you like the pathetic fool you are. They’re going to whisper about how I’m using you and how oblivious you are to it.” Gracie doesn’t know where this poison is coming from, but she doesn’t mind it. It felt good to be mean to him.

     Erick looked at her, stunned by her cruelty. Gracie has lashed out and said harsh things to him before, but this was too much. He genuinely felt his heart stinging and if he didn’t have better self control, he may even have tears in his eyes. This isn’t the Gracie he fell in love with, this is a stranger to him.

     “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Gracie, but you don’t talk to me like that. You need to watch yourself.” He pointed at her as he talked, voice low enough that only she could hear, like a parent scolding their child.

     “Fuck you.” She hissed back.

     “You know what, fuck it. You want to act like this, you're going to wear what I pick out. I was trying to be nice. You did this to yourself Graciela. Wait here while I pick out a dress for you.” Erick turned and walked away.

     Gracie closed the door, heart pounding in her chest. She hasn’t ever acted out like this before. She loves it. She feels alive. She realized he’s gone. He’s gone! She tore the dress off of herself as quickly as she could and tugged her clothes on, not caring if she looked a mess. This is her moment. She made sure Erick was occupied and she bolted for the door. She didn’t know where she wanted to go, she didn't know where she was. She just needs to find a phone. She’s almost positive she could muster up a phone number. She opened the door to the store and cringed at the bell that rang, but she’s sure Erick wouldn’t think twice about it. His little Gracie is obedient. She listens to him with her head bowed like any good pet would.

     The fresh air felt so nice, there was a chill breeze that just filled Gracie with more electricity. She’s going to finally break free from him! She will! She entered the nearest store, it looked like a little mom and pop shop. The lady behind the counter was older, she looked alarmed to see Gracie, does something seem off about her?

     “Excuse me? Can I please use your phone?” Gracie asked, panting, too excited to breathe properly.

     The lady stared at her for a couple seconds.

     “I don’t let customers use the phone.”

     “I get that! I do! But this is different. Can I please use the phone?”

     “Oh this is different huh? How so?” The old woman looked amused with herself. Gracie started to feel like panicking. She needs to make this call.

     “Please. I need to call my mom. I’ll pay you! Just please.” Gracie’s voice broke, and she suddenly felt the world begin to close around her again.

     “I don’t know. I think you need to leave. You’re acting strange.”

     Tears began spilling down Gracie’s cheeks, she felt her knees begin to shake. This can’t be happening. She’s so close, yet she also felt so far away. How is that possible? Why is this woman being like this? Doesn’t she have any empathy? A young girl like Gracie comes running into her shop, looking like this? And she just tells her to leave?

     “Please. I’m begging you! I was kidnapped. I’m being held against my will by this man. I need to call my mom. Or the police! Can you please call the police?” Gracie begged, leaning on her counter, head in her hands, sobbing now.

     “You need to leave. I can’t have this. I don’t want any trouble. You need help.”

     “Yes! I do! Please, call the police! I’ll wait outside! Please!” Gracie has never cried this hard in her life. How can the woman not see that she’s being serious? Sure, kidnapping may not be the most common thing in the world, but why isn’t she trying to be helpful?

     “He’s gonna find me. He’ll see that I left. Oh my God! If he finds me he’s going to kill me! Please, please!”

     “I’ll call the police. Just, wait in the b-”

     “Graciela!”

     Gracie’s heart sank. Hearing his voice was enough to immediately stun her into quiet. She looked up at the woman who looked back at her, she looked scared. Why didn’t she help her sooner?

     “I’m sorry ma’am. This is my wife, Graciela. She snuck away from me. C’mon Gracie, let's get you home.” Erick cooed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She flinched at his touch.

     “I can’t let you take her. She says you kidnapped her.” The woman inched towards the phone, hand grabbing the receiver.

     Erick let out a cruel laugh, rolling his eyes.

     “Are you serious? I thought you quit doing that Gracie. I know you aren’t happy with me now, but God, kidnapped you?” Erick squeezed her tightly as he talked.

     “She’s not well, mentally. She has these delusions. Her medication isn’t working, clearly. I’m sorry she bothered you.”

     “I don’t know sir. She looked really scared. Can I call the police, just so they can talk to you guys? They’ll figure this out. She looks too young to be your wife.” She stammered as she talked.

     “I’m not the first man to marry a girl half his age. Do you threaten to call the police on any other couples like that?”

     “Well, usually those wives aren’t claiming that their husbands kidnapped them, so no. But I don’t feel comfortable letting her go with you.”

     Gracie wished she could tug out of Erick’s grasp so she could go hug the woman. She’s glad that she found her spine. Better late than never.

     “Are you kidding? I told you, she’s delusional. She needs to get home where I can give her her medication. You’re not helping her by keeping her away from her meds.” Erick was so calm as he talked, it made a chill run down her spine. He can be so terrifying sometimes.

     “Miss, are you mentally ill? Do you take meds? Is he just saying this so I’ll let you go home with him?” She sounded so pained as she talked.

     “He’s lying. I’m not mentally ill. I don’t take ‘meds’. Please call the police.” Gracie begged, wincing as Erick squeezed her tighter.

     “Of course she’s going to say that! Look, I know you’re trying to do what you think is right, I respect that. It’s admirable. But this isn’t one of those situations. I’m going to take my wife, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Erick said calmly, gripping onto Gracie tightly and tugging her to follow him. She tried her best not to follow but he’s stronger than her, she was able to break away from him for a second, but he gripped her by the wrist and tugged on her, feeling a sharp stinging feeling go shooting down her arm.

     “Help! Please help!” Gracie yelped, Erick whipped around and grabbed Gracie’s face in his hands.

     “Fucking stop it, Graciela. You’re already in enough trouble. If I were you, I’d be on my best behavior.” Erick spat, squeezing her cheeks hard. Tears poured down her face.

     “Why won’t you just let me go?” Gracie sobbed. She felt helpless. Her attempt at escape was useless. She’s never getting away from him unless he lets her go.

     “Why would I? You’re mine Gracie, when will you understand that?” He sounded sickly gentle, like he explained this to her a billion times. Maybe he has.

     He tugged her towards his car and opened the door, nudging her to get in. She was still crying, loud and uncontrolled. She was making quite the scene and that was making Erick nervous. This is exactly what he didn’t want to happen. This is why he didn’t want to take her out. He should have known that one of these days she was going to act out. It was only a matter of time. He closed the door to the passenger side and walked around the front and got in on his side. She was still crying, he hated hearing it. It made his stomach twist. Guilt.

     They drove back home mostly quiet. At some point Gracie stopped crying outright, and just whimpered. It was pitiful. Erick cycled through several emotions. Guilt. Anger. Sadness. Rage. He tried to think of what a punishment would be. There isn’t much he can do, she already has nothing. It’s not like she actually wanted to attend the dinner in the first place. He felt stuck. He doesn’t get why Gracie has to be like this. She’s so hot and cold. She’ll go days if not weeks seeming to be used to this arrangement. She laughs and talks to him, she follows him around the house like a lost dog. But that can all change in a moment's notice. She goes from the loving Gracie he knows, to a cruel mean woman. Sometimes, when she gets like this, he wonders if he made the right decision., bringing her home. But when she’s doing good, he’s reminded of everything he loves about her. 

     Sometimes he wonders if this is just the typical life of a man married to a woman with bipolar disorder. Maybe she isn't acting out like this because she hates him, maybe she’s having a manic episode. He’s gotten used to her ‘hypomanic’ episodes, maybe he doesn’t recognize full blown mania. Instantly he felt bad for her. He can’t punish her for actions she doesn’t mean to commit. His Gracie would never do what she did today. She’s a good girl. Obedient. She does as told. Manic Gracie is different, obviously. He sighed and reached over, setting his hand on her knee. She looked up at him, seeming confused.

     “I know you didn’t mean it, Graciela. I can’t be mad at you. You can’t control how you feel sometimes. I think we should look into maybe getting you stronger medication. You must feel miserable.” Erick looked over at her, offering her a kind, understanding smile. She looked at him, mouth agape. She felt utterly dumbstruck. Is he an idiot?

     “I’m not manic. I take my fucking medication the way I’m supposed to. What the fuck is your problem Erick? Are you delusional enough to believe that I can’t be fucking upset you kidnapped me? I don’t want to be here with you. I want to go home.” Gracie spat, hands shaking and she pushed his hand off of her knee. She could hardly see straight; she was so angry.

     “We are heading home. I don’t think you realize how bad you’ve been lately. I will admit, I’m not very familiar with bipolar disorder, but you say you have the one that’s not as bad right? Hm. I’m not sure about that.” Erick nodded his head slowly as he talked, pushing his glasses up his nose. He didn’t look at her.

     “Fuck you? Don’t tell me what I have! I know what the fuck I have, Erick. At least I have a fucking excuse, what’s yours huh? You’re a monster! Who kidnaps someone and keeps them locked up in their house? You want me to love you right?”

     He nodded his head slowly.

     “Let. Me. Go. Maybe you and I can talk. We can get coffee. Meet the old fashioned way. See if we’re actually compatible.”

      “You expect me to believe that you’d do that? You’re going to run to the police the first chance you have. I’m not letting you go. You’re going to realize you love me and that’s that. I love you so much Gracie. One day you’ll see that. You have to.” Erick didn’t look at her as he spoke, it’s like he knew that he couldn’t.

     Gracie can’t help but wonder if Erick actually believes any of this. Or is he just repeating this over and over again until both of them are forced to believe it? Gracie will never love Erick, and she knows that nothing she does will ever be enough to get him to understand that. Gracie hates knowing that she’s stuck with a man that will never listen to reason. She will always be his trophy and nothing else. She may as well just get used to being here.

     “Can I still go to the dinner with you?” Gracie asked, voice low enough that Erick could barely hear her.

     He looked at her for a few moments and shook his head no.

     “I don’t think so. Not this time, Graciela. I can’t trust you.” He said, reaching over and turning the radio up. Conversation over. Gracie sighed and rested her head against the seat.

     She didn’t think about the fact that this will be one of the only events where she can talk to other people. She lost the opportunity to talk to someone other than Erick. Maybe she is a fool. She needs to quit being irrational and thinking about these things. This isn’t a normal life. She has to think of the outcomes and what could happen to her. She can’t seem to understand that for some reason.

[thebadchoicemachine]

Pauling In Blunderland

TF2 Alice in Wonderland AU

All Chapters • Ao3

Chapter 4/14 - Tweedle Boom and Tweedle Bang

Pauling crashed into branch after branch, each one poofing into ash as soon as her body hit it. It covered her whole body, caking her glasses, but it at least made for a much softer landing.

She coughed, stumbling out of the soot pile onto the black musty ground. She removed the blindfold that her glasses had become and squinted at the blurry world around her. In the sky, a blur she assumed was Jerry dashed back into the animal-filled sky. 

“AYE, YE BETTEHR RUN!” A blusterous voice whooped from somewhere in the forest.

From above, another voice shouted, getting closer. “YOU ARE NOT WELCOME IN MY WAR GROUNDS, BUTTERFLY!” 

Thump. 

Pauling jumped, spinning around and socking the man that just landed behind her square in the jaw. It was like hitting a tree trunk. 

“Ow!” She grabbed her hand, dropping her glasses. 

The man, holding a hand to where she’d hit him, got centimeters away from Pauling’s face and growled. 

Even with her blurry vision, she could tell that this man was a soldier. Not just because of his steel pot helmet, or the fact they were in something called “the War Grounds,” but by the very way he was shaped and held himself. There was just no other assumption one could make. 

“What are you?” The Soldier demanded. 

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Would a polite ‘Hi, what’s your name?’ kill you guys?”

“QUIET! I want a rank, you strange purple maggot. Spit it out! Now!”

“Oeh, lay off the lass, Soldier.” Another man—the first voice she’d heard—stepped up behind him and smacked the back of his helmet. “Cannae see she’s just a wee little thing? She won't do ya no harm.”

“SHE WILL AND SHE HAS! You will get your ass handed to you on a silver platter with an intuition like that.” Soldier turned to bark at the newcomer. “I was not in her proximity for more than two seconds before she struck me right in the kisser!”

“Hey. I only hit you because you fell out of the sky right behind me.” Pauling huffed. “It was instinct, I’m sorry.” 

“DO NOT APOLOGIZE FOR GOOD INSTINCTS! THAT IS A VALUABLE SKILL TO HAVE!” 

Pauling jumped back again at the shouting, surprised at what she could only assume to be a compliment. “Right. Thanks? Um. Anyway, you can call me Pauling or Miss Pauling, if you like. My ‘rank’ would be… assistant? I suppose?”

“Nice to meet ye, Assistant. I’m the Demoman but most folks call me Demo.” He stuck out his hand. Pauling shook it. He had stony skin and a surprisingly professional grip. 

“And I am the Soldier!” 

“I figured as much.”

“Sometimes my friends call me Solly! You may not call me that.”

“Okay then, Soldier. Nice to meet you?” Pauling offered him a handshake as well, which he took with sudden enthusiasm. He seemed to switch from blistering commander to eager friend often and rapidly. 

“So, what brings you to the War Grounds, Assistant?” Soldier asked cheerily in his gruff voice. He was still vigorously shaking Pauling’s hand.

“Y-you c-can j-just c-call—” Pauling tore her hand from his grip. “Just call me Miss Pauling, please.” 

“Alrighty! What brings you to the War Grounds, Miss Pauling?” 

“Well, first, I just to find my glasses.”

Soldier raised his hand. “What are those? And can I use them to blow him up?” He pointed to Demo (who seemed just as eager about the possibility) with his thumb. 

“Um, I’d have to say no.”

“Aw.” Soldier put his hand down.

Pauling shrugged apologetically. “I need them to see. They’re just ordinary glasses. You know, two glass panes inside a frame.” 

“Uh…” Demo lifted his shoe. “They woul’n happen to be these things I just stepped on, would they?”

“What?” Pauling bent down and plucked her soot-covered broken glasses. 

She grumbled as she wiped them down on her leggings. The lenses were cracked and stained, and the frame was bent awkwardly around her nose, but she could see again. (At least, she could see better than without them.) 

  Getting a solid look at Demoman and Soldier was an experience, to say the least.

Though they were nothing compared to the giant that had been Saxton Hale, they were still tall/buff dudes. Demo stood at about 1.8 meters, with Soldier being a bit shorter. 

Demo was dressed head to toe in regal white and silver. He wore a thick vest and sturdy boots, with stout sleeves underneath. His skin looked like it had the texture of rock. Hell, there was literally a crack running down the right side of his face, through an eye socket that was filled with a white stone. Altogether, he looked like he belonged in the middle of a fancy fountain by a castle. 

Soldier, on the other hand, was a mucky fellow. His black and dark-grey uniform looked raggedy, although there was no actual wear or tear visible on it. He was covered in patches of dirt. Twigs and other flecks of debris were stuck to his helmet and coat. His boots were covered in mud. 

What really caught Pauling’s eye, though, was their weapons. 

Soldier was leaning on a rocket launcher nearly as tall as he was. Several grenades were strung around his chest. There was also a shovel strapped to his back, for some reason. Likewise, Demo was decked from head to toe in explosives. He was casually holding a bomb launcher at his side, and there was a beautiful sword on his waist. 

Pauling found herself reaching toward the blade, marveling. 

Demo caught site of this and took a swift step back, unsheathing it in an instant change of character. A dangerous and combatant aura overcame his merry composure. 

Pauling didn’t much mind having a sword pointed at her chest; all it did was give her an even better look at it. She whistled, never taking her eyes off the masterpiece. “That’s gorgeous.” 

Demo faltered, blinking slowly before shifting back into his casual stance. “Aye, she is, ain’t she?” 

Pauling held out her hands. “May I?” 

“Uh… I ‘spose. Be careful, though. Eyelander can be a brat.”

Paulig grabbed the sword from Demo’s hands. She fumbled at first, getting the weight positioned correctly in her hands, but then held it up with strong and eager glee. 

“Who dares hold me? Are you here for war? Are you here for battle?” A voice cut through Pauling’s mind like a knife. 

“Mmm, yes.” Pauling’s subconscious answered casually for her.

“Love that enthusiasm,” the sword scoffed. “Prove it to me. Prove you—”

Pauling turned on her heel and swung at the trunk of a nearby tree. She wasn’t the best with melee weapons; it was by far her least practiced form of violence, but she planted her feet in the proper stance and the rush of the swing poured in from the hilt. 

The blade cut through the bone-thick trunk like butter. It stood tall for a moment as if nothing happened, then slid off the side and collapsed in an explosion of ash. 

“Oh,” Was all Demo said. “Maybe ye were right,” he whispered to Soldier under his breath. 

“Right about what?” Eyelander yelped. Pauling felt its ferocity begin to pull her mussels again. “What did that bobble-headed sucker say about me?”

“Not you, ya dolt,” Demo tried to explain to Eyelander but it was too late. 

Eyelander, still held firmly in Pauling’s grip, launched itself at Soldier. It planted itself through his side with a solid thunk, exactly the same feeling as cutting the tree. 

“Oh my God,” Pauling yelled, yanking it back out. “I am so sorry!” 

Shit, I should have left it in, she cursed to herself. Now he’s probably gonna bleed out. 

“EY! What the bloody hell is yer problem?” Demo jumped at her. “Ye ken very well that’s my job!” 

Instinctively, she spun around and kneed him in the gut. “It wasn’t me! It was this sword!” 

Demo didn’t answer,  clutching his stomach where he’d been hit. 

“Well, the sword did the stabbing,” she chuckled apologetically under her breath.

“I AM GOING TO SNAP YOU IN HALF!” 

Pauling glanced behind her. Soldier was standing up. His side was gushing what looked like black ink but otherwise, he seemed entirely fine. And angry. She glanced back to Demo reaching for his bomb launcher. 

“Hell,” she muttered and took off running. 

  For an area with such a violent name, the War Grounds were surprisingly quiet; it could almost be described as peaceful. Dashing through the tall coal trees under the ashen sky inspired a tranquil feeling inside Pauling. 

The explosions and unintelligible shouts that were following her, however, did not. 

“Where are you going? Fight! FIGHT! I want the Soldier’s head!” Eyelander whined in her mind.

She ignored it, whipping past tree after tree, each tangled root or gnarled trunk she grazed bursting into shattering into a suffocating cloud of ash. She stopped trying to doge them altogether and just sprinted straight ahead. The nature around her gave in—until it didn’t. 

In her mad dash away from the explosive men, Pauling failed to notice that the black forest ended in a perfect line. She had crossed the stark boundary and smacked into a solid stone, abruptly finding herself in a completely different world. 

The ground beneath her was no longer spongey dark dirt but, instead, pale and rocky sand. What she’d stupidly run into was a huge stalagmite (one of many that checkered the dessert). They rippled with layers of pearlescent white. The field of these regal rocks looked almost as though castle turrets had been erected across the land.

“Oh hey, we’re home!” Eyelander piped up in sarcastic excitement. “Anyway, if you’re done being a coward, can we go back and kill that guy now?”

Pauling had enough of being insulted by this scrap of metal. She had no idea why she was even still carrying it around.

“Because you can’t put me down,” It smugly informed her. “ I’m made for attacking, so you’re either gonna attack or hold onto me forever. Why not make this interesting for both of us and, you know, decapitate something?” 

“Some thing, huh?” Pauling looked back up

“Wait wait wait, NO—” Eyelander might’ve been able to read her mind and seek out blood, but it couldn’t stop her from slamming it into the stalagmite. 

The first swing hit a marble-looking loop. It bounced back, chipping the stone and blunting the sword. 

“JEEZ, LADY!” Eyelander squawked. “ What is your PROBLEM? Didn’t you say I was a masterpiece or something?” 

“I don’t know! Maybe my dislike of being possessed or cursed or whatever you think you’re doing to me outweighs my admiration of weaponry?” Pauling smiled threateningly. 

“Okay, that’s fair. I–” It was interrupted as she smacked it against the rock again, this time hitting a ring of sparkling crystal. “ OW. I’ll stop! I’ll stop! You know, you could have a little respect for a magic sword. Yeesh.” 

“Sorry, but there’s only one person I really respect.” Pauling shrugged and jammed the sword forward. This time, the part it hit was a malleable alabaster-like layer. Eyelander sunk inside, stuck like Excalibur. 

Somehow, even though it was telepathic, the rock muffled Eyelander’s voice. It faintly garbled on in her head but she could no longer make out the words. She basked in the ignorable quiet. Cool as it was, that sword was getting a little annoying. 

  “HALT, MAGGOT.”

The suddenly-close shouting was her only warning as a rocket plunged toward her. Pauling yelped and dove out of the way, landing on her back but somehow dodging the massive explosion. 

Soldier came flying out of the dark forest. He landed on rough sand with a crunch. “I SAID HALT.”

“I am halted!” Pauling barked back at him.

He scooted to a stop right in front of her, looking down in surprise. From this angle, Pauling could see his smokey pitch-black irises under his helmet. 

“Oh,” he said.

“Yeah. You really didn’t need to shoot at me.” 

“Why not?” He asked with the tone of a child who’d been told not to smash his hands into a cake.

Pauling opened her mouth to answer but stopped when she saw Demo rushing out of the woods as well.   

“SOLLY, YE BASTARD,” He huffed. “ WUID YA WAIT FER WAN MOMENT?” 

“We are waiting!” Soldier informed him with a salute. 

“Ah.” Demo stopped. “So ye are.” He looked awkwardly from one to the other for a moment. “Well then, where’s ma eejit of a sword?” 

“MMHMM MM HMMM,” Eyelander screeched loud enough for all three of their heads to echo.

Demo sighed and pulled it out. “I swear, ye are insufferable when it comes to guests.” 

“You aren’t supposed to have guests! You’re supposed to kill HIM! (With me, preferably.)”

Demo rolled his eye and sheathed the sword, silencing it completely. “Aye,” he huffed. “I’M s’posed tae kill him. That’s my job, ye bloodthirsty glory hog.” 

As he talked, Pauling stood up and dusted herself off, finally noticing how all the black soot she’d gathered earlier had turned to glittery white dust. Her hands and glasses were coated in it as well. 

“Huh,” she wondered at the sparkly residue. She turned to ask Demo about it, glancing up just in time to see Soldier wack him in the back of the head with his shovel. 

Demo fell into his face. “OW. Oi!” He flipped to his back and kicked Soldier hard in the shin, knocking him to his knees and pouncing on him. “I’m gonne jam my thumbs in your eyes and hang on ‘til ye’re DEAD!” 

Soldier, in turn, dropped his shovel and opted to smash his head against Demo’s. Helmet met skull with a crack. “I AM GOING TO CLAW MY WAY DOWN YOUR THROAT AND TEAR OUT YOUR VERY SOUL!”

Pauling watched the two tussle for a moment. She’d stopped trying to question how anything worked in this world and decided firmly against getting in the way of their war. Besides, they seemed to really enjoy it. 

“Hey, guys?” 

Despite being in the middle of getting throttled, Soldier looked up with a polite grin. “Yes, Miss Pauling?” 

“I’m gonna head out now.”

Demo took a hard fist to the jaw. He slumped back, looking up at Pauling from the ground. “Aw, ye don’t wanna stay en fight? It’s bin a while since we’ve had someone fun join us! Usually, the only spice we get es just whatever creatures Saxton misses, en those’r like stopin’ out daisies.”

“I’m on a mission right now, looking for a rabbit (long story) and I’ve gotten sidetracked as it is. Some other time, though, I’d love to!” 

“Rabbit?” Soldier paused his attacks. “I know a rabbit!” 

“Aye, doesn’t that scampering berry-muncher live in one of yer areas?” Demo agreed, reaching for a patch of especially rocky ground. 

“Yeah! He—AUUGH.” Soldier bumbled backward as a fistful of sharp sand was thrust up his nose and mouth. He spluttered the rest of his sentence out, “His base is stationed on the 6th of the 1st.”

“What?” 

“We’re on the 3rd of the 1st now,” Demo helpfully informed her as he loaded his bomb launcher. Soldier was still coughing out sand. “Ye just walk that way ‘til you get back to his, then mine, then his again. That oughta be where that twinkled-toed toy is.”

“Oh,” Pauling said, understanding. “It’s like a grid?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Demo smiled over his shoulder while aiming at Soldier. 

“Thanks! See you guys later, I guess.”

“Goodbye Miss Pauling!” Soldier hollered from the ground, giving a lively and friendly wave. “ It was fun getting stabbed by you! Come back soon!”

“I will!” She happily called, having already put a good distance between herself and them. A world-shaking BOOM ensured her this was the right choice. She chuckled, shaking her head as she continued toward the next square of woods. 

[ghcstao3]

the abandoned wip of this idea 😀👍

-

It all starts something like this:

Soap, having been a waiter at a high-end restaurant in NYC for more years of his life than he would have liked, has learned more than a thing or two about nepotism.

To get so much as a spot as a dishwasher, you need to know someone who knows someone—making it extremely rare to have new hires you have never seen the faces of before in your life, like Soap however many years ago. Honestly, he’s pretty sure he only managed to get and keep the job because of his accent. Something about seeming foreign and exotic to mega-rich clientele.

The last new hire he’d seen had been months ago, and she had only lasted a week. Gossip is a real harsh thing, among both customers and staff. The poor thing had cried on her way out—though at least clutching a fat cheque in her hands as she did—and her face was never seen around the restaurant again. She was nice, started the job with only a few slip-ups during the learning process, and asked questions only when necessary—but she hadn’t had skin thick enough to deal with the asshats that existed within the walls of very fine dining that Soap has begrudgingly gotten used to.

But that’s beside the point—the point is, because of this (rather unfair, in Soap’s opinion) system of nepotism, Soap has grown to know the faces of his coworkers very, very well. And in getting to know these coworkers very, very well, it is even easier to spot fresh faces in and around the kitchen that is always bustling with employees. Especially when they are sneaking around like they plan to cause mischief.

It is suspicious by all definitions of the word, and Soap has to wonder why none of his colleagues seem to notice the unfamiliar man wearing a uniform that probably doesn’t belong to him.

Soap watches the man walk out onto the floor with a platter with the intent to serve, but there is something about his movements that tell Soap that there is something else to it. Thankfully he’s on break, so he has the freedom to watch the scene before he decides to pull the stranger aside and confront him for intruding on their business illegally. If Soap got to see someone thrown out, he’d be a very happy man—it’s one of the few things that brought him joy to see at work. It’s satisfactory to dole out rightful justice, and often amusing otherwise.

Nothing odd occurs that Soap can see as the man leaves the table and stalks back toward the kitchen. Before he can reach the doors, however, Soap grabs his arm and pulls him into the hall in which the bathrooms are hidden.

“Who d’you think you are, thinking you can just waltz in and pretend to work here?” Soap demands. Weirdly enough, the man doesn’t seem all too perturbed. “This is an esteemed establishment, I’ll have you know.”

Instead of replying, perhaps with some excuse, the man peers around the wall before holding a finger to his lips as if to shush Soap. The absolute gall of this man.

Soap frowns and pokes his head around the wall as well, attempting to follow the stranger’s gaze. But before he gets much of a chance to figure out what he is looking at, Soap is tugged back into obscurity in the hall.

“What are you—”

“Be quiet,” the man hisses. Soap folds his arms over his chest with a childish petulance. Why wasn’t this going according to plan?

“First of all, excuse you.” Soap pouts. “Second of all—”

Soap glances down to where the flap of the man’s blazer lifts as he leans around the corner, and has to do a double take before truly realizing what is tucked beneath the waistband of his slacks. Soap’s eyes go wide as saucers.

“Is that a gun?” Soap exclaims.

A large hand suddenly clamps over Soap’s mouth. “I told you to shut up,” the man hisses, with much more urgency than his last hushing.

“Oi!” Soap protests. The sound is muffled by the man’s palm. The stranger continues to look around the corner, eyebrows drawn like he’s trying to piece something together.

Which must have proven rather difficult when Soap pulls a last-resort move and licks his hand. It’s disgusting, most definitely, and tastes weirdly of steel, but it is also just as effective in getting the hand removed from over Soap’s mouth. The man jerks his hand back and wipes his palm on his trousers, a distasteful look settling on his face.

“What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?” Soap retorts. “First you sneak in here, and next thing you know you have a gun, and—hey, wait, what are you—”

Before Soap can comprehend what is happening, shouting sounds out from the dining area, and he is being pushed further into the hallway and away from the fight that would completely break out in just a few seconds' time. Something crashes, someone screams, and Soap’s perpetrator disappears into the action in all his not-actually-a-waiter-y glory.

Soap huffs and moves toward the dining area and out of the dimly lit hall, but stops the moment he hears a gunshot—though, surprisingly, it hadn’t come from the mystery criminal man. Instead, it was the people the man had served earlier, though clearly there had been miscommunication, a threat, something to cause the chaos unfolding before Soap’s very own eyes.

Much too far from the hall now, Soap ducks behind the nearest table, its prior patrons having long since fled. It feels entirely undignified crawling under the tablecloth on all fours, but it’s the only thing Soap can think to do at the moment to not get caught in the crossfire of the commotion in the restaurant.

They seem to be fighting over a briefcase, which is just some sort of movie cliché in and of itself. A chair gets smashed over someone’s back (oh god, his boss was not going to be happy), and another person shoots—and before Soap realizes it the briefcase comes sliding toward him, unnoticed by everyone else.

He doesn’t think before he reaches for the case and pulls it under the table with him, hiding it from sight. Soap crawls back around to the other side of the table, the side that faces the kitchen, and makes a dash for the door with the briefcase tucked under his arm.

Soap collapses against the wall just beside the door, not having formed a plan thus far yet. Not that he really had a plan to begin with. At the moment, he is running off of no more than adrenaline and pure stupidity. This is the most exciting his life had ever been in… well, ever.

Suddenly, one of the bad guys (Soap thinks it was one of the “bad guys”, at least. For whatever reason, he trusts the poorly disguised “waiter” more) stumbles through the kitchen doors, clutching his shoulder and wearing a deep scowl on his face as he looks for… something. Probably the briefcase that Soap cradles to his chest as he sits against the wall trying to catch his breath and not start into a panic attack as reality encroaches.

Soap stays as silent as he can, praying the man wouldn’t turn around. He wills the man to continue further into the kitchen, enough so to allow Soap a chance to get out.

But of course, he turns around. It isn’t long before recognition flickers in his eyes, an evil grin quick to replace the scowl on his face as he draws his gun on Soap. Soap’s grip tightens on the case, pulling his knees closer to his chest. The man tsks.

“Ah, ah,” he says slowly. “Just hand over the case and no one has to get hurt.”

At the request, all alarm and fear that has bubbled up Soap’s throat just… dissipates. In fact, he almost laughs at the words, the line so infamous in movies and shows that Soap feels like he can almost predict what would happen next—either Soap would get killed (hopefully not that option), or—

Or, Soap’s original problem would show up, incapacitate the man, and turn to stare at Soap completely dumbfounded like he wasn’t just the one to kill several people in the span of ten or so minutes.

“I got the case,” Soap cracks. A wry yet dazed smile takes up residence on his face as he offers it out to the man.

He retrieves it from Soap before offering out a hand to help him up. Soap waves him off, less-than-gracefully pushing himself off the ground.

“Do you have a death wish or something?” He asks Soap as he sets the briefcase on one of the nearby prep tables in the kitchen. His back faces Soap as he clicks it open, presumably to check its contents. Soap tries to peer around to see what it is, but the man slams the case shut before he gets the chance.

“Not particularly, no,” Soap answers.

The man scoffs. “Work on making that sound more convincing,” he mutters. He jerks his head toward the kitchen’s emergency exit, then, without waiting on Soap, starts toward it with the briefcase securely in his grip.

Soap is conflicted, but immediately thinks back to the scene on the floor and decides, fuck it. Doesn’t have much of a choice, does he?

ghoap au with waiter!soap, who is just trying to make ends meet working at a high-end restaurant, accidentally getting himself caught up in a whole conspiracy when he refuses to let mi6 agent!ghost boss him around when a shooting starts at the restaurant during one of soap’s shifts (ghost was literally just trying to make sure soap didn’t die)

so now soap has to tag along with ghost until things are fixed because otherwise someone might come after him

[triforceangel13]

Sing Me a Melody Ch. 10 (A bakudeku omegaverse au)

Chapter 10: Legality

“Mind your own business,” Dabi snapped at Katsuki. “I'm just getting my mate so we can go home after his little accident.”

Izuku felt panic rise in his chest and he had to keep himself from latching onto the sleeping pup next to him.

He couldn't go back with him. He would never go back with him. He was scared out of his mind. Going back with him now meant he could very well lose his life.

“That's funny. Because he is coming home with me,” Katsuki stated, not liking how close he was to his mate and child. It was taking everything within himself not to launch across the room and slam the man's head into the ground.

For everything he had done to Izuku in the past. He had hoped he never saw the guy and here he was, being served to him on a silver platter. He deserved to be locked up for what he had done to him. And now he was trying to take him again.

“And who do you think you are?” Dabi scoffed but he had his answer the moment his scent hit his nose. Izuku's new alpha.

“His alpha,” Katsuki staetd, taking a step forward. “And you will leave. Now, before I have security come to get you. And don't think you can follow us anymore. Your little chip is gone.”

Dabi looked surprised at that, looking to Izuku and then to the bandage on his head. Izuku scowled at him.

“Now you can't follow me anymore,” Izuku stated.

“Like hell I can't,” Dabi said, reaching and grabbing Izuku's wrist. In his other hand he tugged out a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I have this. And until you have one of your own, you can't claim him as yours. And I can just replant my mark on him.”

“You mean this?” Katsuki asked, holding up his own piece of paper. Izuku's eyes shined a bit with unshed tears, a small smile there. He had gotten his mating liscence to be his proper alpha. In this case Izuku was free forever of Dabi.

“Kacchan,” Izuku whispered and fear set in as Dabi's grip tigthtened on his arm, tugging on him which caused him to yelp in pain.

That set Katsuki off and he stomped to the other alpha, fangs bared as he grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him away from his mate.

He crashed into one of the carts, toppling over objects and making a loud bang. Eri startled awake and started to cry, whimpering softly at who this man was and why Izuku was upset.

“Daddy,” Eri cried and just hearing his pup being upset set Katsuki off even more, grabbing hold of Dabi's collar and tugged him up, fist poised to hit him.

Izuku collected Eri against him, keeping her against his chest and away from the image of her father going to hurt someone. The little girl clung to his hospital gown, crying softly.

“Kacchan!” Izuku called out and Katsuki stopped, looking over at his mate and child. They were terrified, Eri more so since she didn't know what was going on.

But also Katsuki was sure she had seen her fair share of violence when it came to her birth mother. Who knew what she had witnessed or been exposed to.

Red eyes turned back to Dabi who scowled and was ready to strike himself.

“Leave. Now. And if I ever catch you near my mate ever again,” Katsuki growled at him.

“You'll what?” Dabi asked with a smirk. “Go on. Threaten me mister big rock star.”

That caught Katsuki off guard and Dabi was able to get a good punch in on Katsuki's eyes. The blonde grunted, dropping him and Dabi stepped away as the blonde covered his injured face.

With the commotion going on security appeared in no time, grabbing hold of Dabi as Katsuki pointed to him.

“Get him out of here.”

The man grabbed hold of Dabi, pulling his arms behind his back. Dabi smirked regardless.

“Have fun with a defective omega,” Dabi snarled at them. “He's useless if he can't give you any pups rockstar.”

“Out!” Katsuki roarted and security pulled him away.

Katsuki let out a sigh, the only sound now coming from Eri who sobbed in Izuku's arms. He looked to them his chest tightneing at the sight.

Izuku looked perfect. Holding Eri close, rocking her gently in his arms and sending out a soothing scent to relax the young pup.

“Hey, it's okay,” Katsuki said softly as he came closer to them. “It's all over. The bad man is gone now.”

Once he was at the side of the bed Eri released Izuku and she latched herself to the blonde. Izuku didn't mind of course, understanding.

“I've got you princess,” Katsuki said gently, petting her hair as she trembled in his arms, her sobs turning into quiet sniffles. “Daddy's got you. Daddy is here.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku said softly after a few moments of soothing his pup. Katsuki looked to his mate who reached out and cupped his cheek.

He winced a bit from the pain but he gave him a smile.

“I've had worse,” The blonde said with a snort. Izuku gave a small smile at that.

“I figured you have. But I really still would like you to have that checked out when you can,” Izuku urged him.

Katsuki kissed his hand and nodded.

“I will when she calms down,” Katsuki promised, holding Izuku's hand. The omega stared at them a moment and then to the discarded liscence on the floor.

“You really got it?” Izuku asked softly.

“Yep,” Katsuki replied. “Had Sero fax it over since I have to give a copy to the hospital. All I need is for you to sign it.”

“I'll do it as soon as possible,” Izuku said. He would have to thank Sero later for helping him out of such a bad situation. Though he was sure hearing about Katsuki's newest mating had send him reeling about what could happen. “Also...Kaccchan?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving me,” Izuku explained “Regardless of my flaws....If you hadn't come he would have taken me away and who knows if I would have lived after the next time he tried to get me to conceive. I would be barren...again.”

“Izu,” Katsuki said, this time tucking his finger under his chin so that he would look up into his eyes at him. “Just because you can't have pups doesn't mean you are useless or defective. If we ever want children of our own one day, we have other options like adoption.”

Izuku smiled softly at that, nodding his head as he wiped away another tear that was trying to leak down his chin again. Now that the adrenaline was gone he was feeling exhausted again and just wanted to sleep.

“Here,” Katsuki said gently, slowly guiding Izuku to lay back down on the bed and set a now sleeping Eri next to him again. Izuku rest his arm around her, Katsuki laying the blanket over them both so they could stay warm.

“I'll get myself fixed up. You rest more, okay?” Katsuki said but Izuku grabbed his arm quickly.

“Please don't leave us,” Izuku said, fear lingering in his voice.

Katsuki's eyes softened and he leaned down to brush a kiss against his forehead to help relax him.

“I won't,” he said, pushing the button to summon the nurse to the room. “I promise I own't leave either of you.”

*

It was a few days later that Katsuki had to answer the door to the hotel room. His band mates stood there looking scared but also had arms of gifts.

“Kirishima told us what happened and uh...” Kaminari started and Katsuki scowled at the redhead. At least he didn't barge in.

“Oh did he now?”

“We just want to see how he's doing and offer our congrats,” Mina chimed in. “We want to welcome him to the family.”

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a small sigh. “Alright. But he's a little jumpy after some stuff okay? And don't make it a shock that Eri has literally latches herself onto him.”

The others stepped into the room with armfuls full of gifts. The blonde closed the door, raising a brow. What were they trying to do? Smother him with affection?

“You still have Eri? Hasn't it been a few days?” Mina finally asked.

“Yes,” Katsuki said. “And today I need to take a very important phone call.”

The tone of his voice and look on his face said enough. Katsuki was not willing to talk about this right about now.

“Right,” Mina said a little nervously but then followed the others into the other room.

“Aunt Mina! Uncle Kiri! Uncle Kami!” Eri said, wiggling off of Izuku's lap and ran to them, giving each of them a hug. Izuku smiled softly at that, adjusting the blanket that was on his lap.

“Good to see you again kiddo,” Kaminari said, hugging Eri tightly.

Katsuki stood by the couch, resting his hands gently on Izuku's shouldres, rubbing his bandage a bit where he had bitten him.

“You okay with the company?” he asked softly. Izuku nodded his head, resting his hands on Katsuki's for the moment, giving a reassuring squeeze.

“I'll be fine,” Izuku told him. “I like the company. It means that if I fall asleep I won't wake up to have him standing by my bed again...”

Katsuki's eyes softened a little bit at that, feeling a little guilty about it. If he had been there he would have never gotten in at all...he wouldn't have had to deal with that.

“I'm sorry-”

“Don't apologize again,” Izuku said softly, gaining their attention. Katsuki glared at them a bit until Eri came back over and tucked herself right into Izuku's sida again.

“I'll tell you later,” he told his bandmates. He wasn't sure how much Kirishima that had told them but he was sure he hadn't said anything about the whole ex showing up.

He was hoping that he would end up going to jail for harassement but he was sure the man was just removed from the aera. Unless Izuku was near him he couldn't get him put away.

And getting him near that guy was the last thing he wanted to do.

He leaned down and kissed the top of Izuku's head gently near the bandage. He already had things in motion to getting Izuku's things and severing Izuku's lease.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he kissed his head again.

“I'll be right back,” he said. At least he could trust his friends to protect Izuku. He had to make sure that he never left Izuku alone for a while.

“Okay,” Izuku chirped watching Katsuki walk away. Katsuki pulled the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello Mr. Bakugou, I'm calling to return your message about getting sole custody over your daughter Eri?” the woman on the phone said.

“Yes,” Katsuki said, peeking at the group a small smile coming to his face. He was taking big steps lately. He would need a break soon.

“How soon can we start the process?” he asked.

“Already have. And you have a good evidence against her considering she has not come back to pick her up.”

“Good.”

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[lightvsdark18]

Damien's time in Twisted Wonderland #2

(Instead of summarizing every book, I picked out certain parts to make it easier. Used Mewshi Q's playthrough)

Book 4

Sorrowful at not spending winter break with family, and grew more terrible at Grim's explanation.

Glared at Crowley and didn't believe a single word.

Flicked Ace's forehead.

No trust towards the twins.

Felt something off about Jamil. "Grim, I think we should head back to our dorm." Then Jamil used his gay beam.

Whiplash at Kalim.

Lost his appetite.

"I feel unsure on how to read him."

On the inside, he tried to comprehend what he was looking at. On the outside, 😐

The fear in his eyes.

"Not happening." Got up to leave and the students dragged him back.

"I should be the one saying that considering I still have a broken rib." "Yeah, I'll help."

"I was going to tell him no, but something made me say yes."

He was going to kill Crowley.

"Make me." Dragged out of the room.

"No thanks, not interested."

"And that is?" "... We're doomed."

He hated this dorm.

"Hold on, let me push my organs back in place."

Screamed through the dorm and portal.

Curled up on the floor in pain from unhealed rib.

"Help us out, please."

"Come on, we're poor as it is."

Didn't like the Sus Trio trio getting involved.

"Then why am I called Shrimpy?"

Damien vs Azul, who will win?

Luckily he's overprotective big brother.

"I do not feel comfortable sleeping in the same room as you three."

He could finally focus on healing.

Not surprised.

"! The hell!?"

Felt a bit bad for them both.

Fist fought the students.

"Fuck."

Curled up in pain again.

Big brother mode on.

This will be a crazy story to tell his sisters.

"We are nothing but dirt beneath your feet."

Used a silver platter as weapon. One of the snakes bit him on the crook of his neck. Left a discolored scar.

Conflicted on Jamil's past.

Froze up at the realization he forgot Ace and Deuce.

Clenched his chest. "Damnit, Vanrouge, stop doing that."

Shunned to silence at Crowley keeping his promise.

Took a moment alone in his room to think about the dreams and overblots.

Cautiously went up to the mirror again and tried to understand on what he's having a conversation with.

Book 5

Lay in bed, "crap."

I was dreaming about the Great Seven. Why?

Told them nothing.

Wanted to join VDC because money.

Grabbed his side in pain and glared at Crowley.

Wasn't a part of the fight.

Decent on singing and dancing, but quickly sharpen his skills.

"You absolutely would."

Disliked Rook from "too accustomed to concealing my presence."

And disliked him more from "as a hunter, I make it a point to memorize the species and height of every student on campus."

"Can people stop scaring me? I still have a broken rib..."

Amazed by this world.

His life flashed before his eyes.

"Why do they want me if I didn't pass the audition?"

"What are you offering?"

The apple pie was more savory than sweet.

Blocked Vil's hand from even touching it.

"Damn, that's good."

Raised a brow and poked Kalim's cheeks.

Had a serious conversation with Kalim after sending Grim back inside.

Started getting plates and silverware, then cut a slice of the apple pie for himself when the lights flipped on.

"Schoenheit, what the hell?"

"Let me off? Excuse you, didn't you tell Grim and I we could eat whatever we want? How dare you curse the food that belonged to us and go against your own words."

Lay Ace and Deuce on separate sofas and took Grim upstairs.

"Uh, yes, I'm here."

This kid is messed up.

"Kalim, I'm a company different situation."

"This is definitely a fight."

"Schoenheit, you're cold."

"Ace, learn to shut your mouth sometimes."

Smug, "I don't know, there's always a chance."

Didn't figure it out because didn't feel a need to.

Weirded out at the evil laugh, but glad Iris liked the gift.

"... How does he know my name?" (Lilia)

Said nothing and just picked up Grim.

"Who's that guy in the corner muttering?" (Your future boyfriend)

... Sebek is half human?

Why are those guys bullying children?

Dwarfs?

Cater: "-and Kalim and Damien gets snatched up by Vil..."

"I don't know I would say we're friends, but yeah."

Found the song a bit annoying.

A chill ran up his spine at seeing the poison apple. He looked over at where Vil disappeared into, and instantly chased after him.

"I have a bad feeling..."

Hunt, what is wrong with you?

Was getting scared.

Slightly angry "shit."

"Good foresight, Jamil."

"No, Hunt would the one who died if Kalim didn't get involved."

"Can someone magic me a weapon?"

Vil got close enough to slap Damien and left bloody clawmarks on his right cheek.

Had a look of understanding to Vil's grief.

"Oh Iris, you're early." "No, not really."

"Oh, okay." Not fazed one bit.

Terrified at the powerful magic, then impressed.

"Thank you, Iris." "Ah, sorry."

You could see the disappointment and fury in his eyes.

"Hmm, maybe it's because of my end, something... bad did happen today."

Went looking for Grim and got curious where he was at. "Where's that cat?"

His heart sank at the flashback and told Mickey he had to go, then went searching outside.

He saw something on the stage and investigated.

"Grim?"

Raised up his arm to block the attack and got three long clawmarks on the forearm.

Book 6

Holding his forearm, he rushed back to the dorm and bandaged his arm, then immediately called Crowley to inform him on what happened. He lay down from the adrenaline and exhaustion from the OB, falling asleep.

Gritted his teeth at the dream, knowing damn well what this meant. He was startled awake by voices and saw the boys.

They went downstairs to talk and heard a knock on door, finding Crowley there.

Immediately agued with Crowley on calling Grim naturally bad.

Felt angry, conflicted and upset.

He was lonely inside the dorm and felt the homesick he buried deep.

The comment on surprising Grim lifted his mood.

Then he hit the deck.

Escorted the first years inside the guest room.

Froze into silence at hearing Grim's voice and yelled out his name.

Frustrated at losing Grim, and now Vil and Jamil.

He finally got arrested?

His mind was a fried egg during the meeting.

"Right, I have no dorm."

"What?! Hunt, why the hell are you going there?!"

"... Are you kidding me? Skincare?!"

"I understand your feelings, Epel, but it's too dangerous to go to a place like that. We don't know what will happen if you go."

A small argument occurred and ended with Epel dragging Damien along.

Death grip on Epel and squeezed the life out of the boy, especially the broom going unsteady. Poor boy.

"Yeah, I'll keep you on track."

Hugged himself because warmth.

Why do I have a crush on you?

"Yeah, but I definitely want to visit again."

Now he thought about his sisters and missed them.

Just fell on the ground.

Amazed by the inside.

"You destroyed my dorm."

A bit unsettled by the cryptid statement.

He was ready to carry the staff member, but knew he wouldn't be able to put of the blast zone in time if he did or not. His family flashed on his mind.

Again, he was amazed by this world.

And high-five Epel.

Walked in. "Sup."

Went to the staff. "I need a weapon." Suggested he take one of the Charon's.

"Hey, where's Grim?"

"Do I need to show you my arm?"

How many?!

Look of why me? "Uhh, let's back to school quickly."

"Oh, %I'm sorry%, I didn't think the previous overbloter would act all high and mighty about being reckless."

Kissed the non-swollen cheek. Damien had a gay moment.

Vil: "-and my stoic knight."

Smacking phantoms on the heads with a deactivate rowing paddle.

Squished his eyes at Ortho's invitation to the Film Research club.

"Wouldn't have been a bad idea."

"You trapped someone here?!"

First time his fear was shown on his face.

"Over there!"

Laughed at Epel's stomach.

"Was that a compliment or an insult?"

"Savanaclaw?"

Pissed off at the story always stopping.

We didn't attack the island.

The phantom swung its hand and crushed him against a metal box. His back bruised heavily.

Fell to his knees with the others.

Slept like a rock.

He hated all of this scary BS.

Trauma filled growl at another OB. And had a moment of terror a the ginormous phantom.

Couldn't do anything against the Shroud brothers, so threw his only weapon at Idia, and missed by a lot.

Teared up at Idia's past, especially because he's a big brother himself.

Bluescreened at Vil.

"He's not breathing!"

"Grim! Wake up!"

Petted his head with a smile.

Covered his ears with regret.

"Thank you, Iris."

"You guys are awake!" "Hey!"

Damien is officially a heartthrob. Watch out, everyone.

Disappointed there wasn't a real upgrade on the bedroom.

Jumpscared by Crowley and complained under his breath.

"Nice."

Someone with unique eyes.

[hedonists-den]

House Pig

You waddle to your house, the short walk from your car to the front door has you huffing and puffing. On instinct, you turn your hips as you enter through the doorway. You aren't QUITE fat enough for it to be necessary, but you can feel yourself getting closer to that point with each passing day.

"Ah! Finally back home?", a voice calls from the kitchen. Despite the long day you've had, their soothing voice brings a smile to your face. 

"*Hff...hff*...yeah, FINALLY done with work today. It was such a-", you stop mid-sentence as the delicious smell of greasy, fried food fills your nostrils. Your feeder steps out of the kitchen holding a platter, stacked up with what you can only assume is fast food from all your favorite places. They set it down on the table and turn back to you, looking at the winded state that you're in, and grin. 

"Hard day? It must have been, seeing how exhausted you are...why don't you heave yourself over here, hm?", they say, leaning back on the table. You realize just how hungry you are, having been forced to go without eating for at least a couple hours...You set your things down and shuffle your way over to the table, already feeling your clothes pressed against your body. They had gotten so tight lately, and you just replaced your wardrobe maybe a month ago.

"I am...pretty hungry...", you say as you plop yourself down in the creaking chair. It had never sounded like it struggled THIS hard to hold you, but it really felt like it was straining this time as your ass overflowed the sides and your flabby belly kept you from fully sitting up to the table. 

"Aww, I know you are, my greedy little thing...", they say as they step behind you and place their hands on your sides, their fingers exploring every soft roll. They lean in and kiss right where your double chin meets your neck. "Just forget all about that tough day of yours, and fill this greedy belly for me", they whispered, reaching over to fondle your immense belly.

You can't resist anymore. You deserve this after the day you had, after all. You reach out with your chubby hands and grab handfuls of the heavy, greasy food, taking the first bite. The taste is so good...the feeling of finally getting to eat overwhelms you, eyelids fluttering as you're lost in the sensation. "Mmmph...god, that's good...", you moan as you begin stuffing your face.

"That's it, baby... So good and greedy, aren't you?", they tease, tracing their finger over your bulging belly before grabbing a handful of your double belly. "Look at you. Look at how much you've fattened up since I started doting on you. So many clothes outgrown, so much more space you're taking up, it's a good look on you, being such a piggy."

You knew it was true. Every bite you took only served to make you bigger, heavier, wider. Your feeder had seen to it that you grew so incredibly out of shape, so massively obese, that hardly anyone recognized you anymore. No one at work had said anything yet, but you knew they looked at you in disbelief. You even had to get your office chair replaced to accommodate your ever-growing size. And none of this was lost on you as you continued your gluttonous feasting. 

None of it felt like enough anymore. Your appetite has grown so much from the near-constant overeating that even when you're stuffed to the brim, swollen and pinned down by your own belly, you feel like you can always have a little more dessert. You ate, and ate, and ate, all the while, your feeder caressed and admired you, a marvel of self-indulgence. 

"Eat all the stress and worry away, love. There's plenty more where this came from. None of those pesky wrappers or boxes to get in the way," they said, biting their lip as they noticed just how much your belly was bulging under the table and between your thighs. They give your overflowing hip a firm smack before grabbing and jiggling it, making your whole body ripple like an ocean of fat. 

You're getting so full, feeling the pressure in your stomach as it stretches to hold all of the calorie-rich food you stuffed into it. Not to mention how unbearably tight your work clothes were on you at this point. The platter was almost empty, and even you were surprised when you took a second to realize just how much you had eaten. It was easily enough to feed 4 or 5 people, and NOW you're getting full?! You lean back, exhaling and placing your hands on the sides of your aching belly. It had gotten too big for you to fully reach the bottom of your belly hang.

"Hnnnh...I'm so full...and I feel so huge...", you groan as you take a look at your corpulent body. Just in time for your feeder's hand to grab your belly, their thumb in your belly button and their fingers curled under the lower roll. 

"I think...", they said as they leaned in to kiss your plump cheek, "...you just need to sit somewhere more comfortable. Come on, let's get your heavy self to the bed." They take your hands and help you to your feet, both of you feeling the struggle that was getting you off the chair. You feel your whole body wobble just from this simple movement, and you can feel the weight of your body pulling down on your frame. You groan from the fullness as your feeder helps you to the bedroom, helps you remove your extremely tight work clothes, and gets you onto the nice, soft bed. Then, they turn and leave the bedroom.

"Wait, where are you…*huff*...going..?", you pant, situating yourself on the soft mattress. 

"Oh I'll be right back! Just getting you dessert!", they call out from the hallway. It doesn't take them long to come back, holding what you easily recognize as a box of donuts from your favorite place. They crawl on top of the bed in front of you, nudging your cellulite-covered thighs apart as they sit themselves between them. 

"Just lay back and let me take care of this part. You don't need to lift a finger, my sweet pig...", they coo, taking a glistening, glazed donut from the box and leaning forward onto your mountain of a belly. You have hardly a moment to respond before the sugary ring is placed at your lips, your feeder smiling all the while. "Go on, I know you can't resist sweets...", they say. You open your mouth and let them push bite after bite past your lips.

One by one, each donut passes from the box to your lips. It was so much...you had eaten so much, but you couldn't help yourself. It was so easy for you to give in anymore. You didn't HAVE to care about holding back, especially not with your feeder around. They had been practically relentless, always having something delicious around to stuff your face with. 

"Unnnf...I can't…eat...another bite...", you whimper, laying your head back. Your swollen gut heaves with every shallow breath you take. You've gotten used to being stuffed lately, almost every single day. But never like this... You were in a hedonistic daze, fighting to stay conscious at this point, but you feel your feeder lean in, grab the sides of your chubby cheeks, and kiss you deeply. 

"Mmm...good, because you've eaten all we have, you perfect hog...", they say with a chuckle. "You know, I've grown pretty fond of keeping you stuffed, spoiled, and huge. I think you could really afford to quit that job of yours, hm? You don't need all that stress. Be my full-time house pig." Despite your current state, their offer rang in your ears. Becoming a full-time, spoiled, fat pig? Not a worry in the world...only eating, being adored, and growing fatter...it sounded so alluring...

"Yes...I don't want to work anymore... Just a spoiled and overfed pig...", you manage to moan. Even admitting it sent a shiver down your spine, bringing a smile to your face as you envisioned your life as a doted-on, prize fatty. 

"That's what I hoped you'd say... We'll put in your notice tomorrow. Now, lay back and start gaining all the weight from this binge, while I admire what a massive butterball you've become...", they moan as their hands explore every inch of your doughy body. A body that was only going to keep getting fatter, thicker, heavier. It felt so good...it felt so right. You could feel it. This is what you were meant to be. You slowly drift off into a food coma as your feeder kneads your body, in absolute bliss.